


Reason To Stay

by littleblackneko



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Connor's in a bad place you guys, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, with intent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 05:39:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11776611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleblackneko/pseuds/littleblackneko
Summary: He just wanted to be done. The thought struck him like a stupid fucking bullet. He was just so fucking done with living, with feeling like he was awful and didn't matter. He couldn't breathe, he realized without much thought. He was struggling to breathe. Maybe he would suffocate to death, that would just be swell. Or he could  do something about it.





	Reason To Stay

Connor launched his book across the room in frustration. He had thought it might prove as a welcomed distraction from his stupid head, but the torture continued nonetheless. He had shut himself up in his room hours ago, and maybe his family was right in thinking that they should leave well enough alone, but he couldn't help but feel that someone could have checked on him to see that he wasn't okay.  

It would probably have resulted in him telling whoever it was to fuck off, but still.

Connor just felt...empty. Tired. Like nothing he did mattered, because no one was going to care. He was just some stupid, angry stoner in the minds of everyone else. Maybe that was actually what he was. He couldn't help it though. At least when he was angry he felt something instead of the aching, pounding numbness where he just wanted to disappear from the world. He was past the point of wanting the help that he wouldn’t be allowed to have.

He just wanted to be done. The thought struck him like a stupid fucking bullet. He was just so fucking done with living, with feeling like he was awful and didn't matter. He couldn't breathe, he realized without much thought. He was struggling to breathe. Maybe he would suffocate to death, that would just be swell. Or he could  do something about it.

His mom had just bought some headache medicine. He heard her mention it to Zoe or something, he couldn't remember quite right through his newfound determination to finish things. Connor grabbed the bottle out of the medicine cabinet stealthily, and creeped back to his room, shutting the door behind him. He poured the bottle's contents onto his comforter. This would definitely be enough.

Everyone would be better off without him. Very few may actually grieve, but they'd get over it. He was done being the freak that everyone hated.

His phone vibrated in the pocket of his hoodie and he was tempted to not check it, to just follow through and let whoever it was find out later why he didn't reply. Against his better judgement, he checked the message. He immediately regretted it as he got punched in the stomach with guilt. His boyfriend.

_Evan: Connor?_

_Connor: hey ev_

_Evan: Can we talk?_

_Connor: it's fine you don't have to explain urself we can just break up_

At least the timing was right.

_Evan: No! No that's not it, I really like dating you, you're really great and everything and I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you think that's what I was doing or anything. I just wanted to talk because I miss you!_

Damn, that kid was too sweet. Connor grimaced and stared at the pills waiting on his bed, tempting him. Could he do this to Evan?

Yes, he decided. Evan could find someone much better than him. Someone who would really appreciate Evan better than Connor ever could. Anyone would be better for him than Connor was.

_Connor: don't worry, it's fine_

_Connor: can i ask you a question_

_Evan: Yes, of course! :)_

_Connor: what would you do if i was gone?_

_Evan: I'd be really sad. I'd miss you a lot. Because I love you._

_Connor: love you too._

He typed and sent it absentmindedly before sending another, more pressing, message.

_Connor: but like you would survive it right_

_Evan: Connor, what's going on?_

He didn't reply. Picked up one of the pills, moved it around in his fingers, thinking about how it would be to swallow one after another and be peaceful for once instead of just dead inside. He could be dead on the outside too. Another message came from Evan a few minutes later.

_Evan: Connor, please reply. You're scaring me._

_Connor: we should be honest with each other right?_

Connor didn't know what prompted him to send that to Evan. He wanted to quell a possible anxiety attack that the boy might be starting to have, so he had to give him something. Though, knowing Connor, he probably made it worse. He made everything worse.

_Evan: Yes...Please tell me what's going on._

_Connor: I'm going to kill myself._

There. Straightforward. No lackadaisical typing style either. He clenched his fist before shooting off the message, so angry at himself now, because he was going to hurt Evan. They never should have become friends, never should have started dating, because now he was going to leave behind pain when he should leave behind nothing. Why the fuck did Evan have to care about Connor?

_Evan: Con, if you're messing with me, it's not funny._

_Evan: Please tell me you're messing with me.._   

He took a picture of the pills and sent them to Evan.

_Connor: you make me wish I was._

_Connor: but i can't live like this, it's not getting any better._  

_Connor: i’m not like you ev i’m not making progress_

_Connor: ev you there?_

Minutes lapsed by with no word. So apparently Evan didn’t actually care. That was fucking great, he told himself, he really didn’t have anybody to mourn him. He didn’t have to worry about Evan because the truth was Evan didn’t care either. His love for Connor was a farce. Connor really had no reason to be alive. He was a loser that would never really be seen. And he deserved it. He deserved to die.

He took a handful of the medication into his palm. He grabbed a sports drink that was sitting on his nightstand. Took a deep breath. Noticed he was crying. When the hell did he start crying?

And then heard a knock on the front door.

Damnit.

He placed the handful back down, placed the drink on the nightstand, and went to answer the door before it progressed to ornate ringing that would wake up his family and possibly have them catch onto his plan. They’d feel obligated to stop him. Or maybe they wouldn’t. Hell, Connor didn’t care anymore. He wiped at his eyes with his hoodie sleeve before heading down the stairs to the front door. He threw it open and, to his surprise, there stood Evan, in his pajamas, looking distraught.

“Connor!” Evan surprised him by launching himself into Connor’s arms, heaving sobs racking through his body. “Connor, thank God.”

“Evan?” Connor rubbed small circles on Evan’s back. “The fuck you doing here?”

“I was worried I was going to be too late,” Evan sniffled, “That since I had to stop texting to drive, that I would get here and you’d already be dead.”

“Yeah, well what would it matter?” Connor pulled away from him roughly, “I shouldn’t be here. I don’t think you get it, _I don’t matter_.”

“Don’t say that,” Evan protested, taking a step closer to Connor. God, he looked so broken down about this, it made Connor feel even worse for putting that dismal expression on his face.

“Why?” Connor snapped, “It’s true! No one cares that I exist.”

“I care, Connor. I’d care if you were dead.”

“You would recover.” He muttered, feeling exhausted all over again. “You would get over me, move on with your life. You’d forget I ever existed, go on and live a happy life with other people, Hansen. Might as well start now.” Connor turned to go back up the stairs, back up to his plan, but Evan, in an odd show of boldness, grabs onto his arm and turns him back around. Connor can’t meet his eye.

“I wouldn’t, Connor.”

“Wouldn’t _what?”_

“Get over you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Let me drive you to the hospital.” Evan sounded like he was pleading and most definitely panicking but Connor couldn’t bear to look and see if the tone was genuine, “Please, Connor.” The request came quietly.

“You’re just prolonging the inevitable,” Connor said bitterly, “It’s my destiny to die this way.”

“I r-refuse to b-believe that.” Evan stuttered over his words, and from the sound of it, God was he _scared._ “Connor, look at me.”

Connor kept his gaze steadfast on the floor.

“Connor.”

He slowly lifted his head up, and saw that Evan was trembling. Shit.

“You don’t have to feel responsible or some shit, Evan, damnit! This is my choice, and it’s not your fault that I feel this way.” Connor couldn’t help but feel frustrated that this was making such an impact on Evan. But he couldn’t stay alive just for Evan, could he?

“But if-if I had b-been better to you? If I h-had made you feel m-more appreciated? M-more loved? Maybe, you wouldn’t, maybe you wouldn’t feel like this? S-so m-maybe it is my fault?”

“Evan, I fucking have depression, it’s not you.”

“B-but what if it is?”

“It’s not!” Connor said a little too harshly, and felt the anger boil at the injustice of Evan having to deal with his stupid fucking issues.

“Connor, let’s go to the hospital,” Evan took Connor’s hand in his shaking one and held on tightly. “Connor, you need help.”

“Larry doesn’t think so. He thinks it’s all a cry for attention or some shit like that. He wouldn’t care if I died. Hell, he’d probably say I was ungrateful, feeling this way when I’m so fucking privileged.”

“You said it, you have depression, you can’t help it.”

“They’d never let me stay in the hospital, or at least they wouldn’t _pay_ for it, and do I have the money? No, I fucking don’t, so I’m not going to get better, I’m not going to fucking _heal or some shit.”_

“I’ll pay for it,” Evan says bluntly.

“You guys don’t have the money to take care of my sorry ass. I mean, it’s not like I deserve it.”

“Connor,” Evan declares and Connor realizes Evan has been saying his name a lot. It’s probably a grounding  technique his therapist taught him or something. “My mom and I would both rather owe money to the hospital than let you die tonight.”

“I’m scared, Evan.” He finally admits to himself, “I feel so empty and exhausted and I’m scared I’ll never stop feeling that way, no matter what anyone does. What if I’m fucking beyond help?”

Evan doesn’t offer any empty promises that there will be some magic cure for Connor, but he does pull him into an embrace, “Let’s find out together if that’s true, then. Let’s try help.”

Connor slumps against Evan, realizing that Evan wasn’t going to walk away and let him do it. He really didn’t have a choice. “Fine, but can we… Clean up the bedspread?

Evan looks confused at the question at first but quickly remembers the picture that Connor sent. “Don’t do anything,” he tells Connor, standing on tiptoe to peck his cheek, and he ran upstairs to Connor’s bedroom. Connor stood by the front door, reeling at the development. He had been so sure tonight had been the night, but now he wants to be better. Not for himself. Maybe other people would think it’s stupid to stay alive for someone else, but he can’t imagine doing it for himself right now. Evan is keeping him upright in more ways than one as he whispers, “Let’s go,” with the utmost fondness and relief in his eyes, and leads Connor.

He couldn’t bear to see those emotions go, so he would live right now. For Evan.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is soooo appreciated! Also thank you so much to my beta, daisukicutie (from tumblr)!! But yeah this was really cathartic to write. If you want to follow my tumblr, its the same as my username, and if you would like to follow and send asks to the Connor Murphy ask blog I'm starting, it's on tumblr at thatmurphyboyconnor. Anyway, I hope everyone has a great day and if you don't, I hope it gets better soon <3


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